Yesterday I went out on the trail that leads from my street to the local conservation land. It had been walked on, but not with snowshoes. So the snow was still deep and soft. However, I took a wrong turn and realized I was heading up a climb, so I turned onto what I thought was the trail, but somehow it was a loop and I ended up at the start. OK, I went back and figured out my mistake. It was really nice, but the last storm had knocked down several trees and there were branches bending over, touching the ground. I could see the trail markers, but it was hard to see the trail! Near the intersection of the neighborhood trail and the main one, it got very tight and I felt like I was bushwacking. However, I made it and went up to the town line in Acton, near Stoneymeade. I didn't walk all the way to the end of the trail there, but I ran around in the horse pasture, in the fresh, untouched snow. That was fun. On the way back, I didn't have any trouble finding my way, but I decided to climb up what is called the "ski slope" in my neighborhood. This is a trail that ends up in a vacant lot about two houses down the street from me. I thought I would avoid a longer walk up the street, carrying my snow shoes. Oye! The town maps say this is a 35% grade. I have climbed up it once before, in hiking shoes when it was kind of icy. Let's just say my upper body was almost parallel to the ground. I didn't have poles, which would have helped. But, I made it. I thought I felt OK until this morning when I went x country skiing. My muscles were not happy and I was really off the whole time. I fell down a hill that I always easily go down and then, on the way back, I went over a rough patch on the trail, when I knew I should have gone out of the tracks. My ski hit a rock and I fell on my knee. Now I'm sitting here with an ice pack and I am about to sit in a hot tub.
But it feels good to feel good enough to do this stuff...